Delicate Mortality
by Kandakicksass
Summary: HAUNTING ETERNITY follow up. Alan comes home from Italy to find out Eric's human and banished from their world. Of course, he'll take care of his lover the way he always has- and maybe, just maybe, they'll get their happily ever after, after all.
1. Chapter 1

**This story is a request for **_**Piepiggy21**_** and a follow up to Haunting Eternity about what happened to Eric and Alan after the events of said story. Human!Eric… for now.**

"Welcome back, Alan!"

Alan Humphries smiled at his friends, but his heart wasn't in it. Several of them looked at him with pity—the privileged few who were privy to the information of _why _he'd left for Italy in the first place. William was one of them, who saw him and went from decided _pissed_ to relieved. From what he'd gathered from his constant correspondence with Grell, William had been in a near-constant state of anger for several weeks now, and Alan only wished he'd been there when it had happened… not that it didn't break his heart besides.

He'd arrived back from Venice later than he'd thought he would—probably because of his fear of seeing Eric again. After the memory-shadowing incident, things had been decidedly strained between them and it wasn't like he didn't know why. He'd pretty much broken up with Eric in front of the entire dispatch society, and broken his heart besides.

"Hey, everyone," he greeted his fellow reapers after many an enthusiastic hug. Alan had always been popular in the work place—something pretty to look at, but also good at his job and determined to do whatever he was set to. He was friendly and got along well with his co-workers, making him fast friends with whomever he encountered. "It's good to be back," he added with a small smile. "But you wouldn't believe how tired I am. A certain _someone _told me to take human transportation to ease the strain on my body in the dimension-hole, and planes are incredibly uncomfortable, as it is."

William came up to him, laughing unusually heartily. "Would you rather a bit of jet-lag, Humphries, or a week of unconsciousness? Besides, it doesn't matter. Welcome home." With that, he pulled the brunette in for a hug, surprising him.

"Thank you, Mr. Spears," he said with a small chuckle. "You seem unnecessarily glad to see me."

"Not unnecessarily," he muttered, his smile dropping, but he was distracted as, on their way out, the red head on both their minds came through the crowd, a wide smile on his face, despite the slight redness of his eyes. That had Alan worrying. Why would Grell have been crying? Then he put the pieces together and forced himself to put it from his mind, at least for the time being. Grell was obviously upset enough about the whole thing.

"Welcome back," he whispered into his hair after pulling him in for a hug. When the reaper pulled back again, Alan was momentarily stunned by how gorgeous Grell really was. Everyone ignored it, ignored everything past the sharp teeth and red hair, but Alan could see him now for what he really was now that he wasn't jumping around like a lunatic. His hair was sleek, pulled into a ponytail that fell over his shoulder and his green eyes were bright despite the slight redness. His cheeks had color in them for the first time in years and his smile was almost angelic. "I missed you," he said and Alan noticed that even his voice had gotten smoother now that it was calm instead of screeching.

"I missed you, too," Alan answered with a sad sort of smile. "And I'm sorry I… bailed on you." Because really, he had. With that beautiful smile still in place, Grell just shrugged gracefully.

"You needed space—you, who was in the middle of everything. I was never upset with you, Alan—never thought about it like that. Sebby and I came out on top in the end, after all." He winked. "We're going to go, since we have the kids—" He reached back and pulled a startled Ciel forward into Alan, who hugged him awkwardly when Ciel patted his back with a sheepish grin. "—But maybe next week, you, me, and Alois can all get together for lunch?"

Alan was surprised when the blonde leaned, grinning, from behind Grell, his blue eyes ringed, and Alan put the pieces of that puzzle together as well. He'd been told there was an incident, but not that it had been… _that _serious. "Yeah," he answered with another smile. "I'd like that." Grell grinned and waved as he pushed his way back through the throng of people with his children in tow back towards Sebastian, who gave him a surprisingly amiable nod before they left.

William was back to his frowns as the noise grew again. "I'm sorry, everyone, but Alan and I need to talk about something before the nights is over. Can you save your welcome back speeches until later?" Alan braced himself as the entire room went silent and the air went from excited to solemn in two seconds flat. He had a horrible feeling settle in the pit of his stomach.

William led Alan away quickly, a hand on his shoulder as he was led to William's office near the end of the large floor. He tried not to stumble over his feet in his hurry; he knew, just _knew_, that something had happened, and he desperately wanted to know what. When William shut the door behind them, he said quickly, "William, tell me—what happened?" He was led by the hand on his shoulder to the armchair sitting in front of William's desk.

"Take a breath, Alan, and sit down. You're going to need it," he sighed. "Grell and…" His face twisted into the customary scowl as he took the seat next to Alan's. "And _Sebastian_ had their meeting with the elders a week or so ago, for permission to be together and such—you know how it goes. I told you that much last time I wrote." He nodded. "Everything was going fine—Undertaker was being quiet for once in the back, most of the older reapers were in agreement, and Eric barged in."

Alan visibly winced; of course he had. "Was he drunk?" William shifted uncomfortably.

"He might have been." Alan glared at him and the older reaper threw his hands up in the air, sighing. "What was I supposed to do? It isn't against the rules for our kind to drink. He said he was going out for a couple beers—don't ask me why he drinks that stuff, it's disgusting, it really is—"

"I know all about it," Alan cut him off, his decidedly _feminine _voice irritated. He hated how frail he was, how like a girl, and he had for most of his life. His mother had wanted him to be a girl, so she'd been pleased when he'd turned out the way he had (and even more so when she'd discovered that he was gay, just like she'd been when she'd found out about William, who was almost like a second son to her), but he'd always wanted to be more like Eric, who had been the strong and manly type since they'd known each other. It was what had initially attracted him to the blonde, the idea that maybe becoming friends would get him close enough to learn the habits of what his own friends called "real men" in their teasing way.

"What happened?" Alan asked quietly after he'd decided his thoughts had ran for long enough. "To Eric, after he interrupted." He was sure he already knew, but it wouldn't help to ask, to find out for sure.

"He's human," William answered promptly, but there was pity obvious in his yellow-green eyes and Alan promptly closed his mouth, guilt and horror filtering through him at the same time he felt a deep sense of relief. "That's why Grell and Sebastian and the kids were here today—they went to the official trial. Granted, Eric was already human, but they wanted to testify if it were really necessary… they decided it was. He was…" He winced. "_kicked out_ today."

"Human," Alan repeated, feeling like he'd been stabbed through the heart with a dagger made of ice. Eric, his strong foundation of support, a human? "Human." William leaned forward, like he was going to move to pat him on the shoulder, but when Alan spoke again the dazed horror in his voice was gone and his eyes were as cold as stone. "What did he do?" His words were clipped.

"Do?" William repeated.

"Yes," he snapped in a very un-Alan like way. "What did he _do _to deserve such… _punishment_?" The word was spat out like a curse, his eyes filling to the brim with tears.

"He attacked Grell," William answered, holding his hands up in a defensive position. "And was warned. He attacked him again, and they ripped the reaper from his soul." Alan visibly slumped, all the fight going out of him. If he had been turned with no warning, Alan would have been angry, but…

_What was Eric thinking?_

"I'm sorry I bothered you," Alan said quietly, standing. "I'm going out."

Without giving William a chance to speak, he swept out of the office, William grasping at empty air behind him. "_Crap_!" the reaper groaned. Alan wasn't going to be very happy when he found out that Eric had been tossed out onto the street, _literally_. Alan would kill him.

*(outside)*

Ringed eyes watched with no little sadness and no little anger as a mentally shattered blonde attempted to stand. The braids in his hair were beginning to come loose and his limbs trembled. Probably the absurd lack of strength getting to him, Alan thought with a wince. He was still so frustrated with the now-human, but his heart broke all over again seeing him in this condition. With a sigh, he called out to him, "Eric."

He had been so shocked to see him there on the ground, pathetic and weak. Vulnerable. Passersby on the street, humans with their briefcases and suits, jeans and backpacks, watched them and stared at Eric. Alan subtly put his scythe away, which he'd been holding in a vice grip ever since he'd found out about Grell's fate.

After he did that, the man looked up at him, tear stains on his cheeks, and promptly stumbled in his direction. However, he hadn't quite gained control of his body, newly-changed, and couldn't stay upright. The brunette's pity urged him forward and his own much slender body moved toward the broken being, pulling an arm over his shoulder and lifting the man with little to no effort while he gathered his bearings. "Alan," he whispered, and the brunette looked away. Eric never liked his pity, and wouldn't appreciate it now. "I can stand." He sounded ashamed, and hurt.

"Don't lie to me," Alan said softly with a swift roll of the eyes. "Just let me help you." Eric fell silent, looking down at his feet in shame, and Alan honestly couldn't blame him. If he had done what his ex-lover had, he would be drowning himself in guilt. As it were, he was surprised Eric wasn't trying to get inside now to apologize—then again, it _had _been Sebastian, so maybe he wouldn't have even if he could. Alan wouldn't bring it up, anyway.

"Thank you," Eric said quietly. "After all I've done to you…" True to character, Eric spoke not a word about what had happened during the red haired reaper's meeting.

"Do you have anywhere to stay?" Alan asked, ignoring him. "If you don't, I have a small place you can stay at." Internally, he complained to himself—_why on earth was he offering Eric his safe house?_—but outside he just smiled thinly at Eric's shocked expression. "Don't give me that look; of course I care if you catch your death of cold." It really was quite cold for mid-April and there were high chances he could get sick on top of being human… would Alan really wish that on anyone?

He knew he was being petty, even to himself—he still cared about Eric, still loved him, even… and it hurt him more than anything what had happened to the blonde. Still, he knew that until some things changed, it wouldn't work out between them.

"When did you get a place in mortal London?" Eric asked quietly as Alan led him, limping, down the street toward the higher end. Alan wasn't sure if he wanted to answer that; honestly, at this point, how on earth would he knew what would set Eric off? Eric had never, ever hit him, nor had he ever gotten angry with him irrationally, but in the state he was in… well, he could understand if he got upset over something little. "C'mon, talk to me. Keep me sane, here." Alan was of the impression he needed the sanity, and sighed.

"Near the end there," Alan said. "When we were fighting all the time… when you had Grell's memories shadowed…" He frowned. "I needed some space. I got an apartment with permission of the elders and when I wasn't home, I was there." He shrugged and he heard Eric chuckle quietly.

"I would be angry if it wasn't completely my fault." Alan felt his heart lift at the admittance before forcing it down again. He couldn't let himself get hopeful. He knew Eric felt bad for screwing things up between them (whatever else he was, Eric had always been a good man first and foremost), but it didn't mean he had changed completely.

"Sorry, love." He winced and thanked whatever god was out there that Eric didn't say anything when he let the endearment slip out. He was so used to calling him that… he really was an idiot to let it happen again.

"For what, being your own man and standing up for yourself?" Eric snorted, his limp getting a little bit better as his body became used to the lack of strength. "You always acted like I was so much better than you are, but you have more balls than almost any man I know… barring Grell. I don't know anyone who has more balls than Grell." They both laughed at that.

"You could look at it that way," Alan said with a soft chuckle, stopping them both at the end of the street. When it was clear, they jogged across (well, Eric hobbled, really) and resumed a slow walk once more. "You could just think of it as a mask, too, though." He hated acting like a stranger around Eric—really, they had been together for at least two hundred years, how could he? He would be just as honest with him as he'd ever been.

Eric smile was dry, his walking straightening further. "It's not as much of a mask as you like to think." He left it at that, but it still touched him. He had to take a deep breath to force himself not to look too much into it.

They walked in comfortable silence for a while, calm and quiet, until Eric was leaning on him for moral support more than anything and he had his arm around Eric just for his own comfort. He had missed this, missed the sexy, gorgeous man who had first been Mr. Slingby, his mentor, then Eric, his friend, then Eric-love, his most important person.

"This is it," Alan announced a little while later outside a large apartment building. Eric raised an eyebrow at it, muttering _posh_ under his breath, but Alan was more interested in the tiny beads of sweat on the man's face. He hurried them both inside, opting to take the elevator instead of the stairs for obvious reasons. "You…" He sighed, knowing it was unlike him, but continued anyway, "You look like _shit_, Eric."

Eric laughed at him and he pouted as the elevator dinged and they stepped out onto the fourth floor. "Come on, it's here." He led Eric to the end of the hall, letting go of him to get the door unlocked and open. He didn't like the way Eric slid just a little further from him when he was freed and he felt guilty. Who knew how the man was taking his closeness?

"Well, come in," he called over his shoulder as he sauntered in, trying to get an upper hand on the situation once again. He needed to be more confident or he was going to be a spineless weakling around Eric forever. "It's not much, but it's… you know." He shrugged. He didn't want to say home, because it wasn't really, but it was more than just some apartment.

"It's posh," Eric said again, this time clearly, but it was said teasingly and Alan rolled his eyes. "So…" Something told the brunette that Eric was going to get vulgar in two seconds. "Who all have you gotten horizontal with here since we broke up?"

Alan rolled his eyes, feeling a twinge of annoyance, but he appreciated that Eric wasn't accusing him of cheating on him. "No one," he answered, pulling a Coke out of the fridge and handing it to the blonde. He had beer in there, as well, that he would be getting rid of. A drunk Eric was never a good Eric unless he was horny, and well… in this situation, even a drunk, horny Eric wasn't a good thing. "Unlike you, I can last years without a shag," he added snidely, making Eric snort, turning his head just so, revealing a bruise near his temple. Alan didn't say anything, but he felt his own mood flop, not that it was great to begin with.

"You know, I haven't been with anyone, either," Eric said out of nowhere a second later. "I just wanted you to know. If you ever…" He paused, forcing himself to go on. "If you ever decide to give me a chance again."

"Please, don't bring it up now," Alan said instead of a real answer, grabbing a beer for himself, ignoring Eric's dirty look. "Please. Let's just not talk about it, not now. I just got home, and after everything…" He wasn't going to bring up Grell specifically, but they both knew what he was talking to.

"I won't bring it up again," he swore and Alan sighed in relief. Somewhere, internally, he'd known that he wouldn't, but he'd still felt the need to beg. He really _couldn't _deal with that, and wouldn't try.

"Thank you," he murmured honestly, leaning over to put a warm, slender hand on Eric's in what he hoped was a comforting manner. "I promise, we'll talk about it. But not now." They needed to talk about it, since they were obviously still… _something_. Alan just couldn't commit himself, though, until… His eyes met Eric's.

Until something, he decided. Until something changed. He knew Eric loved him, but there were parts of his heart that was still cold. He didn't want Eric to change, really. Just to expand his horizons, in a way. Eric turned his hand palm up and captured Alan's smoothly. He didn't pull away immediately, just sat there with his sad eyes before he stood and placed a kiss on Eric's forehead.

"I'm going to go get your things from our—your—old apartment," he murmured. "I'll be back."

He pulled his hand away and moved to the door, Eric's voice stopping him just before he reached it. "You'll be staying here, to…" He saw Eric's adam's apple bob as he forced himself to say it. "To take care of me, then?" Alan just nodded and left quickly before he said something he would regret later, because surely, it was still _far _too soon.

When the door shut behind him, he had to give himself a stern lecture about not slumping against it and letting himself cry. No, he stopped himself, straightened his posture, smiled at the neighbor lady walking through the door of her apartment, and walked resolutely out of the building toward the G.R. Corporation building.

**Just the first chapter of three. I hope you like it so far, my dear—and all other readers, fans of Haunting Eternity or not!**

**Kandakicksass**


	2. Chapter 2

**Keep in mind: this is the second to last chapter. This was only a three-shot, so don't be disappointed!**

_Large, warm hands gripped silken hips, rocking his ass over a familiar erection. He could close his eyes and picture it from memory, pretty purple veins and flushed head nudging against his entrance impatiently. He gasped against those lips he knew so well even in the dreamscape, letting them claim his mouth with a whimper._

_"I love you so much," a rough voice murmured against his jaw against which he began to lay bone-melting kisses. He couldn't reply despite the emotion bubbling up within him because the speaker chose that moment to slide inside of him at an agonizingly slow pace—near torture in his humble opinion._

_"Oh, god," Alan cried out as that beautiful, marvelous length pressed into his prostate almost teasingly, the contact lasting only a moment before he pulled away. The shallow thrusts that followed were almost painfully unfulfilling. "Please," he nearly sobbed. He felt like he'd been celibate for his entire life; he needed this so badly… "Eric!"_

_Green-brown eyes—he couldn't distinguish the colors now—met his, those lips curling into a msile. "Alan," he whispered against his collerbone, delivering a hard thrust straight into his prostate and pulling them flush against each other, so close they could hear each other's heartbeats. They were one again, finally, eternally one._

_Alan had missed him so much._

Alan's eyes opened with a small, harsh gasp, cheeks flushed, tears welling in his eyes. For a second, he ignored his throbbing erection and forced himself to calm down emotionally, his breathing coming in sharp little pants from the depth of his want, of his loneliness. His hands clutched at the sheets in a way he hadn't done in quite a while—like he was a child seeking his comfort object.

He gave up on comfort objects—for he'd actually had two in his possession previouslyo—when he'd seen Grell and the Bitter Rabbit that sat on the mantle of the fire place in the room he shared with Sebastian. Alan had been inside a few times since he'd returned, but the only detail that had stuck out was the rabbit. He hadn't been surprised that the redhead hadn't gotten rid of it, but he couldn't lie and say it didn't worry him. He'd seen Grell with that rabbit too many times, even after he'd begun to say he was recovering (claims he knew Grell far too well to believe), squeezing it and playing with the button he recognized from Sebastian's old coat.

He heard a knock on his door. "Alan?" Eric's sleepy voice came. "Are you okay? I heard you gasping… did you have a bad dream?"

"I'm fine, Eric," he called back weakly, feeling horrible for wanting the warmth that voice promised. He pushed him away, but his desires were making themselves known either way; he wanted Eric back and he wanted him now. He winced as he heard Eric yawn 'okay' before shuffling off, his sensitive ears picking up on the slightest of the sounds before his roommate's door closed.

When he was sure Eric wasn't listening, he reached down and brought himself off as quickly as he could, but he couldn't help but tease a little, just like his lover—one of four, and the only one who had ever been _truly _intimate with him—had before. He brushed his thumb over the slit of his erection and choked on a gasp when, shortly after, he came. He took a ragged breath and cleaned himself off with a tissue on the nightstand, grimacing at his dirty sheets. He would clean them when he got home, but he couldn't stand to be in the house anymore.

He looked over at the clock and sighed. Nearly nine, which was a rather impressive sleeping-in for him despite the dream and wank. He, who was privately nicknamed 'Alan the Insomniac' among the shinigami (and it would be a secret forever that stern, stick-in-the-mud—or in the ass—William T. Spears had coined the name). He had to meet Grell at a human coffee shop at ten and was a little disappointed he couldn't make time speed up. Honestly, he could think of nothing he wanted to do that didn't involve leaving and with another sigh, he swung his feet out of bed and padded to the bathroom.

He showered and dressed quickly and twenty minutes later, found himself sitting in the recently opened shop, a cup of coffee in his hands. He looked around him while he waited, unable to regret his decision to go so early.

Alan ran a hand through his hair a good forty-five minutes later, looking more tired than anything, his hand wrapped around a cup of coffee. He was still waiting for Grell and the little blonde reaper, and he knew that Grell would likely feel bad, though he would have been on time. Alan just couldn't bear to stay in the same apartment with Eric for another minute, however, and despite the feeling of horror when he thought of Grell feeling guilty—after spending a hundred years of the man after Sebastian had left, he had grown quite weary of his moods, thought they seemed much more stable nowadays.

He felt bad about running away from Eric, but he couldn't stand those tortured eyes anymore. Grell had things so easy. he was properly mated with the man he loved, two beautiful children, a lovely home. Alan… what did he have? An ex-boyfriend who was pining after him something aweful, an apartment in the middle of London… a boss who wouldn't quit watching him like he pitied him—which he probably did. Almost a month, and everyone still looked at him like that. It was part of the reason he and Grell were so close lately; Grell knew _exactly _how he felt.

He buried his face in his hands, blocking out the rest of the world for just a moment. He was so _tired_. He didn't know what he felt for Eric anymore, only that he did, and it was slowly driving him mad.

"Hey, Alan," he heard, _finally_, and looked up with a wry half-smile. Grell stood there in front of him, red coat hanging around his elbows as usual, crisp white shirt and black slacks spotless. Alois was behind him in similar attire, minus the red coat, and both had smiles on their faces that struck Alan in their sincerity, though Alois's was more excited and Grell's was calm. For a moment, Alan was nearly drowned in jealousy. Grell had gotten lovelier in the past few weeks, his hair shinier, his eyes brighter. There was a gold, jeweled band on his finger that hadn't been there before and the sight of it alone made his heart ache with envy.

"Grell," he greeted him with a nod of the head and Grell's eyes softened, slipping into 'friend' mode. Lately, Alan had noticed that Grell was calming in personality during work, though he was still mischevious and loud. He was keeping a distance between him and other people when on the job was all, and Alan figured with, how they had met, the change might have been a request from his lover.

He turned to Alois and nodded. The recently-made official reaper puffed his chest out proudly at being acknowledged, which in Alan's opinion only made him look cute—which it did. Alois had always been an adorable child, not as cute as Ciel but just as wonderful, and he felt another horrible bit of envy strike him again toward Grell, who had these wonderful children and a wonderful mate.

"Hello, Mr. Humphries!" he crowed, stiting down next to him while Grell chuckled at him, taking a seat himself.

"Alois." He could remember being a newbie and didn't fault him, though it had been a bit different for him since he was a born-reaper. Still, the same principal applied.

"So," Grell interrupted Alois's ego-feeding, his tone serious. "How are you holding up?" Alan felt guilty for it, but he jumped at the chance to talk about it, to get it all out. Grell had always been good when it came to helping people, thought he rarely did. He always seemed to know when it was okay to talk about something and when it was best to leave it well enough alone.

"I've been through worse," he answered. "Yet, I still feel like shit." He shook his head with a half-smile, his hand strangely cold despite the warm coffee. "I don't know what to do. He was the most important person in my life… like Sebastian, for me." Grell nodded because of course that was a comparison he undertood. "But… how could I just forget about everything he did to you?"

"It's not that big of a deal," Alois deadpanned, chomping on a scone happily that Alan wasn't sure when he ordered. Grell shushed him, but the words were said and he'd captured Alan's attention.

"How is it not that big of a deal?" he asked incredulously. "He _attacked _Grell!"

"He was _drunk_!" the boy exclaimed like that was the most important factor in the equation, and to him, it probably seemed like it was. Alan had to admit, it was something to factor in, but it had still _happened_. "You're blowing this out of proportion, Mr. Humpries. Think about all of what you and Eric went through through the years!"

Obviously Grell had shared stories with the newbie, but Alan didn't mind that so much. Flashes of near death hit him and he frowned. "We have been through a lot," he said slowly. "But I can't just—"

"Alois may be right," Grell interrupted slowly, resting his chin in his hand. "It's not actually that big of a deal, in retrospect. You love each other, and it's not like you can change him. I'm sure he feels horrible about what happened."

"You think I should just forget about what he did? He attacked you, Grell!" he repeated before biting his lip to avoid saying anything else. Of course, Alois was the next to speak.

"Mr. Humphries, he was _drunk_," he blonde said again. "He wouldn't have done that in his right mind, would he? True, he went at his prejudices in the entirely wrong way, but if you're going to be angry with him for anything, you should be angry at him for having Grell-mother's memroies shadowed."

Neither reaper was surprised when Grell shuddered, muttering "my poor Sebby," under his breath.

Alan leaned back in his seat, running a hand through his hair again in a sort of distress. "You're probably right, Alois," he said after a long pause in which Grell seemed to being holding his breath, tugging on a strand of silky red hair. "I can't help but be angry, and a little shocked that Eric could be like that." He sounded almost ashamed of himself and in truth, he nearly was. "I knew he was prejudiced, I just couldn't accept it, really. Not until he proved how horrible he could be."

"Alan," Grell said weakly. "He just-"

"No, Grell. Don't defend him; I know what he did was wrong. As a matter of fact, it was evil." His voice hardened. "Pure evil. I can't understand just how he could do such a thing to you. He had never liked you, sure, but to go so far as to erase your memories?" Alan looked up at him, trying to seem angry but instead he just looked lost. "I looked up to him for so long," he murmured. "When I heard that he did that, when I saw how smug he was about the whole thing... how could I stay with him? I was so angry, Italy was my first thought. I just had to get out, and I had the opportunity for that little field trip, how could I have refused?" He shook his head in disgust. "Sometimes I hate him, and myself, for loving him still."

Grell moved next to him quietly, laying a slender hand on his shoulder. "Alan," he said in a solemn voice. "I'm mated to a demon. I know how you feel. Sebastian has killed thousands of innocent people—spread the Plague in England—" They both shuddered, remembering the plague. Grell had been born around the middle of it, Alan near the end, and both remembered the horror and death that hung in the air. It almost had a smell, a sort of odor—rotting flesh and remains, everywhere, no matter where it struck. Grell had been in churches, "holy places", completely ruined by the plague. Homes, churches, businesses, and more all had the air of death around them that never quite went away. There were places even now Grell avoided because of the aura of death. He lived for blood and murder, lived to court death, but the plague was not a memory he liked to visit. "Trust me," he murmured. "I understand, because even though he did those things, I love him. I probably always will."

Alan looked at him with doe eyes that probably would have tempted him were he not very much in love, and very much a bottom.

"Is it okay to love him?" he asked, cocking his head to the side. In truth, thought he supported the two immortals, he couldn't even fathom how Grell looked over all of those horrible things Sebastian had done. Alan hadn't seen much of it, but he remembered a bit of the plague—how could he willingly spread such a horrible thing?

Grell was quiet for awhile, but Alois was nodding, humming around a lollipop that had replaced the scone once he finished the pastry.

"Sebastian?" he asked after a while. "Or both of our respective prats?" Alan couldn't help but snort at that and Grell cracked a small smile… which fell almost instintaniously. "Eric." Alan froze and turned around in shock to where his ex-lover stood nervously.

"Alan," he greeted quite warmly, his heart-broken eyes still looking at him in blatant awe. "I hope you don't mind. I came to apologize, since I can't go into the office anymore." Alan shrugged hesitantly, mute, giving Grell a questioning look.

"Please," the redhead said after a moment of silence, nodding toward the open chair. "Sit. Have a drink." His voice was odd, but Alan could see he was obviously fighting two urges—to forgive or not forgive.

Alan fidgeted, slender hands picking at the cotton of his slacks, as Eric took a deep breath and sat next to him gingerly, their legs brushing only slightly. It almost scared him, how it was enough to send a shiver up his spine. "You don't mind, Alan?" His voice was almost pleading and he looked away, shaking his head.

"No," he answered, but his voice was feeble and Grell sent him a look of sympathy. Alois glared at Eric, but his "mother" merely took a deep breath of his own and forced a smile. "Would you like something?" he nodded toward a menu, still sitting in the middle of the table.

"No, thank you," he answered before looking away from Alan entirely and meeting Grell's intensely green gaze. "The only reason I'm here is to talk to you, to apologize, which I'm sure you've figured out." He winced as Grell nodded sharply, his eyes searching. "What happened a couple months ago..." He blushed, obviously either embarrassed or shamed by what he'd done. "I was an idiot," he continued bluntly. "And while I still don't approve, per se, it was ridiculous and cruel, the way I reacted. I considered us friends, yet I tried to practically sabotage your relationship with... Michaelis."

"Practically is a bit of an understatement," Grell said evenly and he winced again. "Just get to the point, Eric."

"I'm sorry," he sighed heavily, his eyes betraying the depth of his guilt. "Honestly. I know you won't likely want to be friends, but I want to be able to move on, I want _us _to move on. I really regret what happened, for what I did, even if I don't like demons. You love him and Alan... Alan was right the whole time." He sounded almost petulant as he admitted this. "If Alan suddenly became a demon, I would still love him, because he would still be Alan. Demons are... I don't like them. I never will. But you love this Michaelis the same way I love Alan, and he loves you, then I had no reason to interfere and you are free to hate me if you want, but please, just forgive me for what I did to you."

It was quiet for a long while, Alan very quiet, but eventually Grell let out a long, suffering breath, and smiled, though the expression was a bit tight.

"I forgive you," he murmured to Eric, laying a slender, pale hand on his shoulder. Eric's head had been bowed, a physical show of how horrible he felt and Alan wasn't surprised when Grell leaned over and kissed his temple, though Alois continued to glare, though it held far less heat than it had before. "I forgive you, Eric, so get up." The ex-reaper nodded and looked up, tears welling in his eyes. "I'm not saying we'll be best friends-" In truth, they had never been that close anyway. "- but we're still friends. You apologized. You meant it. Why hang on?"

Alan felt like Grell was talking to him as well, and nodded, quiet, before reaching over and taking Eric's hand under the table. Eric looked over for him and he didn't quite smile, but managed a sober expression, free of the pain and confusion that had been gripping him before. He still had some things to work out with Eric- like where all of this had _come _from, for instance- but this needed to be done. They would go in-depth, and they would probably rage and scream and get it all out once and for all, but later. Now it was time to let the most of it go.

"Alan," Eric whispered, his brown eyes so filled with emotion that Alan had to swallow before speaking. He shook his head at Eric, squeezing his hand as if to say _not now_.

"I forgive you, too," he said in a solemn voice, and in the same gesture with a wholly different meaning, leaned over and kissed Eric's temple. The human closed his eyes and took in a deep, steadying breath as a tear, the only one, slid down his cheek and he managed a weak smile.

"Thank you," he told them, both of them, looking from Alan to Grell and back again. "I don't deserve it."

Grell gave him a strange half smile in return. "No, you don't. But that's what love is; forgiving. Isn't it?"


	3. Chapter 3

The rest of lunch was a quiet, pleasant affair. Of course, Alan was still in turmoil, trying to come to a concrete decision. Half of his mind wanted to drag Eric home then and show him how much he loved and forgave him in a very physical way. The other half, however, was yelling at him, telling him he was giving in too easily. Both arguments had their points, but Alan found himself leaning towards the former. If Grell forgave Eric, then why shouldn't he?

He felt a warm, familiar hand rest on his knee and he felt safe again, wanted. He had always had his issues with his slender, feminine body, but part of why he loved Eric so much was that the ex-reaper managed to make him feel cherished, made him stop hating his small size. Eric loved him so dearly just the way he was.

God, he was so stupid!

He reached down and covered that hand with his own, giving his beloved a sad, rueful smile. "I'm sorry," he mouthed. Grell and Alois were bickering amiably over the breadsticks and didn't notice as Eric leaned over to give him a soft kiss.

"Grell! Alois! You promised you would be home half an hour ago!"

Alan turned in surprise to face Sebastian's little master, who was obviously still unaccustomed to being normal and not ordering everyone around. Present-day nobility was a bit different than 1800s nobility, and the Phantomhive family certainly did not have the same social standing it once did. Of course, with the re-growth of Funtom, and the return of the title "the Queen's Watchdog", Phantomhive was quickly returning to its former glory, but it didn't mean Ciel could yet go around like the little lord he was. It was a work in progress.

Ciel was still cute though- snug in a pair of slacks and a button up white shirt covered by a plum colored jacket that obviously did not belong to him. Alois jumped up almost immediately at his entrance, skipping over and kissing Ciel firmly in hello, who blushed and pulled away a bit, though still staying within the circle of Alois's arms. When he looked over with a polite nod, Alan gave him a small, genuine smile. Alan didn't react to the demon's presence in any negative way, but he felt Eric give his knee a brief squeeze. He looked over at his lover, who gave him a dry smile.

"Hello, Mr. Slingby."

Eric looked up at Ciel, who looked almost challenging. After taking a deep breath, he smiled in return, though the expression was somewhat forced. "Hello, Earl Phantomhive. I owe you an apology."

Alan's eyes begged Ciel to accept it, begged him to let go of his anger. He needn't have worried.

"If you apologized to Grell, then you owe me nothing." He paused. "Well, I do believe that Mr. Humphries deserves one as well," Ciel said in a voice that came off like he was attempting to sound stern and failing. With another Eric-like grin, he leaned over and kissed Alan softly once more.

"Sorry, love." Alan nodded, resting their foreheads together, his slender hand on Eric's cheek. Ciel Phantomhive was growing on him, Alan thought. He was so matter-of-fact, so simple. A genuine apology was gold, and forgiving was easy when it mattered. Alan slid his hand into Eric's hair, running over braids and weaving into locks the color of wheat. Eric was peppering kisses on his lips, pulling Alan's body into his lap.

"Get a room," the two teenagers (did they even really count as teenagers anymore?) complained, nearly in unison. Both boys sounded whiny, but Alan could hear the good humor in their voices—as well as the relief. Grell had obviously been keeping the boys up-to-date about their separation of sorts, but he couldn't be angry. Not here, not in Eric's arms. He was warm and safe and happy, and he knew Eric felt the same way. He squeezed, clinging to Eric like a child. Alan barely noticed as Grell stood, a secretive sort of smile curling his lips upward.

"I'm going to take the boys home," the redhead announced. "And I think you two should talk—you really need to do that." Eric nodded, laying feather-light kisses up and down the line of Alan's jaw.

Alan watched as Grell left, his hands finding his "son's" shoulders as he led them to the door. Ciel glanced back at them and gave Alan a hesitant smile, which was returned before he looked away and stepped into the sun.

"Sometimes," Alan murmured, turning so his lips hovered above Eric's. "I get jealous of Grell. He has two beautiful sons and a mate who loves him more than anything else." He paused. "I have been these past few months, almost always jealous. And I felt horrible for it."

"There's nothing to be jealous about," Eric sighed into his mouth after a small kiss. "I've been horrible, I know, but I'm here now. I promise to take care of you... if you want, we can adopt, too." Alan looked down at him curiously. "If you want to, that is. I'm not going to force kids on you... though you'd make a great mother."

"You want children?" he asked, his voice skeptical. "I find I can't believe that."

Eric's smile was faint. "You're not the only one who's been jealous of Grell and his little impromptu family." Alan laughed and snuggled closer. "I am sorry, you know. I should have been on your side throughout all of this... I should have listened to you. After all we've been through..." He stopped for a moment, the pain of tragedies a hundred years past clearly haunting him on his face, before continuing. "After everything- all the times I've gone crazy, it should have been for you. I just don't think rationally when you're not with me." He gave a humorless chuckle. "I guess I don't think rationally even when you're with me half the time." Alan nodded, chuckling in agreement. "I love you, Alan. I do, even if I'm pants at showing it."

"I believe you," he said softly, his fingers still curled in Eric's hair. "I do. And you have no idea how horrible I feel for shutting you out instead of talking about all of this." he smiled crookedly. "This whole thing really shouldn't have been such a big deal."

"What I did was wrong," he said calmly. "I needed punished... you had a point that day, when Grell's memory was wiped, you know. When you asked me if I would still love you if you were a demon." He brushed Alan's hair out of his eyes, his smile warm. "You wouldn't be the same person if you were a demon... but somehow, I think I would." He kissed Alan again, softly and sweetly and Alan yearned to just bury himself in Eric's warmth and just stay there.

"I don't want to let you go again," the brunette said softly. "I've been thinking for a while now about our past, how much we've been through." They both remembered their almost-deaths at the Crystal Palace a hundred years beforehand and kissed again, softly, trying to will away those memories. The decades had passed so slowly, Alan thought, yet the years remained with him. He couldn't look at the remains of the Crystal Palace, for instance, without cringing. "I don't want to lose you again, Eric."

Eric nodded and buried his face in Alan's shoulder.

"Let's go home," Alan whispered. He wasn't sure what he wanted more, to let Eric hold him innocently and fall asleep knowing that he had the love of his very _long_life back, or let Eric hold him in a far less innocent way. He had a feeling his libido, neglected as it was, would win in this argument but at the very least, his heart would be in it, too, and he was fairly sure that was what mattered.

Eric nodded, standing with Alan still in his arms. Alan didn't expect Eric to carry him the whole way—their apartment was nearly three blocks away, though he knew Eric could—and wasn't surprised when he was set on his feet, though a firm grip on his hand was kept. It was slightly cold outside, but he was okay with that, a black scarf wrapped around his neck, one had in the pocket of his coat, the other wrapped firmly in Eric's. It wasn't that long of a walk, but knowing what was waiting for him at home, knowing what he wanted and what he would have soon enough… the walk seemed that much longer.

When they stepped into the building, Alan couldn't move to the elevator fast enough. He pulled Eric along, determined to get where he needed to be—with Eric, in his arms—as soon as physically possible. The elevator didn't move fast enough either, though, and Alan found himself tapping his foot impatiently while Eric chuckled, squeezing his hand comfortingly. When the elevator gave out a ding, Alan was already through the door, speed walking toward the door of _their_apartment.

"Eager?" Eric laughed as he was pushed against the wall, Alan attacking is lips with fervor. The brunette's small body was pressed against the line of Eric's, making small sounds of need. His slender hands were pressing his lover's shoulders into the wall and Eric couldn't fight him. He hadn't the strength anymore, but he was perfectly content to let Alan do as he wished anyway. He had missed Alan so much—missed holding him, missed loving him.

"I adore you," Alan whispered against his lips. "I'm so sorry. I held a stupid grudge for so long, Eric… so stupid. Please, forgive me."

"I was never angry with you," Eric responded with a slight smile. "There's nothing to forgive." He kissed Alan again, sweetly, making his body shudder in _want_. "May I love you, Alan?" He sounded so formal, Alan wanted to giggle, but he couldn't force the sound to come out. He could only nod, holding Eric so tightly he was worried the human would break. Instead of cracking a rib or some other painful thing, Eric just swung him up into his arms and Alan locked his own behind his love's neck, wrapping his long legs around Eric's waist. Eric carried him to their bedroom, laying kisses all over Alan's face, holding him tightly in warm arms. Could the horrible day that Grell's memories had been shadowed really have been only four or so months before?

Eric laid him down on the bed gently, like he would break, fingers going quickly to the buttons on Alan's white shirt. He stripped Alan from his coat to his bare body, revealing inch by inch of milky-white skin slowly, as if unwrapping some prize possession. Alan simply lay here, his eyes on Eric's, burning brightly as if Eric was an angel and he was seeing heaven. He knew, logically, that he was probably closer to heaven than Eric was, but he loved Eric so much that little piece of logic probably didn't matter so much.

Alan should probably feel shy, completely exposed to Eric's burning gaze. He didn't. Instead, he felt wanted—happy. He half-wanted to continue to explain just how much he adored Eric, how badly he felt for hurting him, how he wanted to make it up to him. It didn't matter now, though. Judging by the look on his lover's face, he was perfectly content to be here and worship Alan's body. Did he require any other payment? Alan doubted he did.

Alan couldn't image wanting anything else, either, as he watched Eric slowly undo the buttons of his own coat, sliding it off of his shoulders. It and his shirt shortly thereafter fell to the floor in a pile of fabric and he leaned down, kissing Alan with more heat than he'd used before. He was losing control of himself; it had been too long for both of them and they both knew it.

Alan experienced Eric's ministrations in high definition, feeling hyperaware of everything. Never before had his lover's touch been so electric, so all-consuming, so _warm_. He couldn't remember the last time he'd been so whole—the feeling of Eric sliding inside of him, the sound of Eric's low groan, even the small shudder he gave as Alan squirmed beneath him. All those things made him feel alive again for the first time in far too long.

Eric was warm and alive within him, so very _there_. Alan was hot, so hot, his body slick with sweat and his stomach coated in precum and he felt as if he were really seeing Eric for the first time in god knows how long. Alan hadn't had sex since he and Eric had broken up and he felt now as if he were being freed from some long celibacy, and he knew part of that wonderful feeling was from being with his lover again. It wouldn't be the same with anyone else; he was positive of that.

Eric's hand, wrapped around his arousal, brought him to completion quickly enough and the tightening of his inner muscles around Eric's erection pushed him over the edge as well. They laid there, panting, their bodies still pressed together.

"I love you," Eric whispered. Alan nodded and didn't say anything. He just pushed Eric onto his back and curled up with his head on his love's chest. He didn't need words. He just needed this. Eric understood and wrapped him up warm and safe and Alan fell asleep.

***Five years later***

Alan busied himself in the nursery, tucking long auburn hair behind his ear. He hadn't changed much in the past few years besides his hair, which hung down to his mid back and remained tied back by a white ribbon. At present, he was wearing a crisp white button-up and a pair of pressed black slacks. He and Eric both had to be to work in half an hour, and their daily baby-sitter was going to be there in less than five minutes. Naturally, the nursery was a mess, and Alan was at least attempting to put it in order before she arrived.

"I'm here!"

Make that less than a minute. Alan winced as Rinny appeared in the doorway of the nursery with raised eyebrows. She drove to London each day now that her main job was as a nanny. She was now paid by both Alan and Ciel, who was still her primary employer. She still lived at the manor, of course, and got weekends off. At this point, though, she wasn't doing much work herself at the Phantomhive's. She was technically the head maid, and that was all dandy, but her main job was to make sure that everything was set right at the end of the day. It was a good arrangement for her to baby sit, because she was starting to get bored doing nothing all day. Plus, she loved the baby.

"Eric's force-feeding Liliana in the kitchen," Alan sighed. "We had a… play date of sorts with the little girl from down the hall." Their apartment was so large, there were only two apartments on their floor and the other family was friendly. Their own daughter—human, of course—was a darling thing, though she was a bit…excitable.

Rinny laughed at his ire. "It's okay, Alan," she chuckled. "We'll make a game of cleaning up. It'll be fine, don't worry about it." He nodded, allowing himself to smile in relief.

"I appreciate it, Rin," he said, stepping over a pile of Barbies to give the woman a hug. "You have _no_idea how much." She rolled her eyes.

"I'm sure, Alan." Her smile was warm. "Go to work—I know your superiors still don't like Eric, and I don't want to give them reason to kick him out again."

"Kick who out?"

Both Alan and Rinny looked up at Eric with a smile, who winked ringed green eyes at them. A year after his dismissal, Alan had achieved permission to turn Eric back to a reaper. He probably wouldn't have asked were it not for the fact that he wasn't willing to watch Eric age and live a human lifespan… to watch him die. The idea didn't sit well with them, but thankfully the council had eventually given in and though his status at the Dispatch Society was still shaky, Eric was working again. He had been forced to re-train, of course, but he was still working.

Liliana was in his arms, nearly three years old with huge green eyes the color of emeralds and cornsilk hair. She looked nothing like either of them, but there was something about her—the moment Alan had seen her in the adoption agency, he'd immediately been filling out paperwork without even consent from Eric. He had fought like hell to get her—while Alan's track record was squeaky clean, Eric's made it tough to get the Council to allow them to adopt… but the effort was worth it.

"I'm home!"

Both Alan and Eric perked up in confusion while Rinny just laughed. "Grell planned to help me out today. It's his day off." Alan and Eric couldn't help laughing as Grell popped in with a huge smile directed toward their daughter. Neither of them had been surprised to find out that Grell positively _adored_ Liliana.

Grell walked in and took Liliana with no fuss from Eric's arms, who just rolled his eyes and slid an arm over Alan's shoulder. Grell's gorgeous scarlet hair was in one large braid. After reaching his knees, it was less than manageable kept loose, but he refused to cut it. Alan sighed in admiration as Grell laughed, spinning Lily around in his arms. Eric smiled down at him, knowing exactly what he was thinking.

In the past five years, Grell had grown emotionally and his moods had evened out. Alan couldn't remember the last time he'd seen his friend anything less than ecstatic to be alive. Liliana laughed and brought him back to reality—his gorgeous friend and his angelic daughter, now playing on the floor with the Barbies Alan had been forced to leap over earlier.

"We should go, babe," Eric said with a roll of the eyes. "Lily's in good hands." Alan nodded, smiling. He knew that—he trusted Grell and his family more than anyone else. He gave Rinny one last hug and kissed the top of Grell's lovely hair.

"See you when we get home," he called as they left.

"We'll be here!" Rinny called back and as they stepped through the door they could hear the sound of Liliana's laughter. Alan smiled and headed downstairs with Eric at his side. He hadn't ever thought he'd get his happily ever after… and maybe things weren't perfect, but he would take what he had because he had never been more happy in his life. He kissed Eric in the elevator and made his husband chuckle. He smiled against his lips, breaking away just as the doors opened.

They stepped into the sunlight and thrived.

**Finis.**

**Kandakicksass**


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